Willow Undone
by NightshadeQueene
Summary: Summary is too long.. Will be in chapter One. (I own only my own original ideas and characters. All credit and respect goes to the original creators of any other characters or things mentioned in my story.)
1. Summary

Willow's life has been a varied sequence of events.

She had one friend, who she suspects was murdered. She is forced for a long time to live on and off with her awful, unsupportive, absent Aunt Judy. Her first and only pet she's been able to have before was ran over by said aunt - who blamed the dog for being in the way.

As if this isn't enough, Willow is cursed by the history of her family that no one can seem to let go of, and the fact that she bares an uncanny resemblance to an ancestor who many feared during the mid 16 - 1700's.

Right when Willow thinks her life is changing for the better, she finds out that she hoped way too soon - in the worst possible way.

Her first week home with her real family, she makes a discovery late at night that changes the rest of her life forever.

Taken from her home by a group of supposed-to-be fictional murderers that she knows nothing about, she is forced to go back with them to do who-knows-what. As a confused and highly upset girl; Willow is faced with many strange and new people. She also has to navigate through dangerous and uncharted territory - challenges and 'adventures' alike.

As a girl who knows nothing about family and barely anything about having friends, the true questions arise. Will she finally get these things? And - will she like them when she does?

In a house full of unpredictable killers, her guess would be as good as anyone's..

(**NOTE- I do not own all the original ideas to the characters in this story. I WILL be making a few changes here and there, so please, PLEASE do not point them out or tell me how things are "supposed" to be with them. This story does contain characters from my own mind, who I will be introducing along the way. ^^ ALSO. This story contains (or may contain..) mature content. Please know you are reading with that in mind. I hope you all enjoy ^^ Questions and ideas are welcome, as any feedback would be great c: ** )


	2. Going Home

I was always taught not to believe in monsters.

That fear is something made up by your mind; an "if you don't think about it, it'll go away" type deal. Any time I told my aunt I thought there were monsters under my bed, she told me to go back to bed. Once, I think she told me "Go back to bed, Willow. We'll know by morning if there's anything there." I didn't get it when I was little, but now I know what she was saying. Basically, if I'm alive by morning then nothing's there and I'm fine. And if not, then obviously she was wrong and I was right.

I've lived through enough various terrors to become almost numb to it. My uncle went insane and jumped off the roof - and almost crushed seven year old me. My first dog, Allie, got ran over when my aunt was in a hurry to go get to her hair appointment. She told me it was Allie's fault for not moving.

I've stayed with my aunt for quite awhile now, but tonight I finally get to go home. I'm not sure why I even had to stay with my aunt, but I'm glad I will never have to walk in the living room and see her boyfriend sitting on the couch naked at 3:30 in the morning anymore.

Or walk in from school to see or hear them going at it upstairs. I started sleeping under my bed instead of on it, because for some reason my aunt Judy and her dude thought they had to use my bed for their nasty crap.

I myself, have never done that stuff. I've never even been kissed. I haven't even tried to let anyone get close enough to me to ask me out; especially since last summer when I lost my only friend. My best friend, actually. Jennifer Waye.

I called her Jenny.

She went missing on her fifteenth birthday, and hasn't been seen since. I was there that day. Her boyfriend at the time, who was older than her, said he wanted to show her something and that they'd be right back. I wanted to go, but he was being really funny about it and told me I couldn't go; he told me Jenny said she wanted to be alone with him. I never got to ask her though. Because they never came back.

I snooped around in Mitchell (Jenny's boyfriend)'s car one day, when he wasn't around. What I found was extremely unsettling. As well as another big reason why I one, don't like people; and two, walk everywhere unless I'm being driven by my parents or one of my brothers.

I found what looked to be one of Jenny's shoes, as well as her purse. Stashed in the glove box, I found a piece of Jenny's braid. I always knew Mitchell was obsessed with her hair, but I also know there is no way she would have let him cut that much of her hair off voluntarily; if any, at all. I know better than anyone why, too. Jenny was traumatized by an incident from third grade where she lost almost all of her hair due to an accident during science class. She was never the same afterwards.

Jenny didn't want anyone to touch her hair; only on the rarest of occasions would she let me. She wouldn't color it, refused to let anyone try to perm it. She was terrified of a repeat of that year. No one would leave her alone. I felt so bad for her, that I intentionally ruined my hair the same way hers was. She and I finished out our third grade year together in homeschool. Her mom made a great teacher..my aunt didn't give a rip.

Either way, I know for a fact she would never have voluntarily let Mitchell cut her hair. I tried taking what I found to the police. They told me that what I had wouldn't work. They didn't tell me why, just that it wouldn't work. I half suspect it has something to do with Mitchell's uncle and dad both being cops.

They told me they'd find her. The said they'd find her safe, and they promised me that they'd bring her back alive. I was told by one of them, that if "I left them alone to do their jobs, they would have already found her." I told them they could shove their crap where the sun didn't shine.

It was all so damn clear to me. I knew what happened, I knew who did it. But they ignored me. Because while Mitchell was a star football player who most of the town knew and loved, I was a scabbed-up, poor, girl who had been in trouble before; who most of the town didn't even know existed.

I had to spend two nights in a cell for cussing them out and accusing them of botching the case in Mitchell's favor out of bias.

Since then, I have avoided cops like the plague. I refuse to go near them no matter what. They wouldn't listen to me before, so why would they listen to me now?

While I wait for someone with at least half a brain to come along and handle the investigation, I have the evidence I gathered sitting in sealed bags at the back of my closet. I have been alone and bored enough times to have gained knowledge from all the cop and investigation shows I've watched over the years. Ironic. I used to want to be one.

They're lucky I got it though. And used gloves- cause cross-contamination could incriminate me or someone else. Mitchell's car? It disappeared not long after Jenny did. I'm certain he did something to her; because every time I ask him about her, he gets this _**look**_ in his eyes. And I know. I just _know_.

It's either guilt, or he's afraid of me. Because while almost no one knows me, it seems like everyone in this whole stupid town knows about my family history.

Out of all of the possible ancestry I could have gotten from this area, mine just do happens to be a witch. Well, the most spoke of one, anyway. I wish someone would dig up something else about my family. I get really tired of all the whispers. In over a hundred years, there hasn't been one person in my family to look like her. Agatha Moor, my supposed witch ancestor. Although I have had extremely terrible and almost unbearably cliché luck in my life so far; I refuse to think it's because I'm a direct descendant from a 'strange woman,' who I'm convinced was nothing more than some kind of non-conventional healer at the time. Although, knowing myself, I am probably completely wrong. If I am- I say my aunt Judy is way more proof of there being witchcraft in our blood than I am.

So what, if I have bloody red hair and crystal blue eyes. So _what,_ if I can't gain weight for anything and seem to get sick suddenly and for no reason. So **what** , if I'm as pale and discolored as a Walmart goldfish! I can explain all of it. I have a weird metabolism, and mostly never get to eat because either Judy forgets or is too drunk to do anything other than cause just short of a grease fire in the kitchen. **Again**.

My hair and eyes, are from whatever mix of genes went into making me; plain and simple. My paleness comes from how antisocial and evasive I have become towards people and the outside world in general. Other than that, I don't know what to tell people about me getting sick. I'm me. I'm me, and that's all I have to offer.

And on that note, I'm me; who's really happy today. I finally get to go home. "Home"...The very word sounds so comforting to me. I can't wait to get out of my aunt Judy's house for good.

"Batman hoodie..Jack Skellington socks.." I sigh, running my hand through my hair. My clothes are a varied mess of all my fandoms. I love them all, though. It might sound strange, but it's largely those that have been getting me through my mess of grief and depression since my aunt has been no help whatsoever and she _killed my dog._

"Spider-Man T-shirt..." I purse my lips, looking at my list. I have utter chicken scratch for handwriting, but somehow I'm managing to read it. "Oh, yeah. _Duh, Willow._ " I laugh softly at myself.

"You need your clothes from your dresser...oh, and your teddy. Even though it's from when you were five, you still need it." I shake my head at myself, bending down and crawling under my bed to grab it out from the corner, then dust off its head. Surprisingly, I've kept it in really good shape. I'm glad for that..because it came from my grandma before she died. _I really miss her..._

Momentarily lost in thought, the next thing that I hear is my brother Jericho going:

 _"Reach for the sky!"_

Needless to say, I end up smacking my head off the bottom of the bed frame before I can answer him. Rubbing my head as I look over toward the door, I can't help but to smile at him.

He is a ginormous dork, but even he is a welcome sight after so long of being with aunt hoe-hoe. I mean, aunt Judy. I am surprised though, that Jericho still greets me that way. That wasn't something he started doing until we decided 'Toy Story' was the best movie ever and that Woody was our all-time hero. Like..eons ago.

 _"Eh, do that again; I might just have to shove a snake in yer boot!"_ I reply in a weird voice, giving him an odd look to go with it. Right after, I pounce on him while he's still laughing. I can't believe I missed him so much.

Jericho catches me and picks me up with only minor trouble; he of course, though, feels the need to act as if I'm the heaviest thing ever and like I'm going to break him by jumping on him.

"Miss me that much, did ya Wills?" He asks, smirking at me and then roughing up my already messy red hair.

"I'd think that was obvious, you dingus." I retort, burying my face in his jacket. "Did you come to save me from the horror that is Judy?" I ask, looking up at him pleadingly. " _Please_ , _**please**_ say yes.." I add, chewing my lip.

He laughs. "You haven't had any fun here?" He raises a brow at me like he doesn't already know what my answer will be.

"None." I reply to him flatly, clinging to him again. "Take me home.." This time I am not being as sarcastic with him, and my voice drops, almost to the point of breaking. Despite how it might look to him, I really _**do**_ want to go home. I would love to spend just one more afternoon goofing off or lounging around with my brothers. As opposed to being stuck here. I'd even take their incessant pestering over being in this stupid house.

"Well then." He shakes his head at me and hugs me tightly. "Yeah, I'm here to take you home. You got all your stuff yet?"

"Almost," I nod with great enthusiasm. Then tilting my head at him, I realize something is new with him. Not something I didn't expect to happen eventually, but still..it's new. Since last I saw him, anyway.

"Hey, Jer...since when did you become a goth?"

"...Just get your stuff before I leave you here.."


	3. Surprises in boxes and inbellies?

On my way out the door with Jericho, I can almost swear that I feel my heart skip a beat. _I'll never have to go back._ _ **Ever**_ _._ At this moment, I don't know of anything that could make me happier. that is, until two things happened. The first, coming in the form of the tiniest mew. A small, fluffy little kitten, sitting up on top of an old bench just off from Judy's yard. Such an adorable little creature has no reason to be left here in this awful place. He doesn't deserve that; In my opinion, no one does. Animal, or otherwise. I wouldn't even haunt her house if I was a ghost. The very second she moved in, I'd have the ghost's version of a " **Nope!** F*ck this sh*t, I'm out." moment. Actually, I once thought I had heard something in my room there. What it was, I'll never really know. It was gone after my aunt and whatever guy she was with at the time went in there. Never once did I hear it come back, so.. _yeahhh_.

" _ **Willow!**_ What are you doing?" I hear my brother ask me, the smirk clear in his yell. Jericho is standing by his car, his arms crossed as he leans by the passenger door.

"I'm saving this cutie from a terrible fate, what does it look like?" I ask, sticking my tongue out at him as I carry the kitten over with me. To make room for him, I turned my hoodie around and stuck him in my hood; this leaving my arms free to carry what won't fit on my shoulders.

"Terrible fate?" Jericho raises his eyebrow at me.

"You know as well as I do, if I leave this poor thing here he won't live long." My answer is more serious now, my expression flat. "I'm bringing him home with me, and there's nothing you can do to stop me." The kitten peeks his head out and mews again then, sniffing towards Jericho in curiosity.

Jericho rolls his eyes at me and opens the back seat door. "Whatever, Wills. Just get your crap in here so we can go. And, don't sit on your present when you get in. Don't open it- but don't squash it either."

I raise my eyebrow, setting my box and suitcase in the back. Grabbing my bag off my shoulder, I set it inside as well before turning toward him with a questioning look.

"Present..? What for..?" I ask, tilting my head in puzzlement.

"...Wow. Just.. _Ugh_. Your birthday?" He asks me as he gets in the driver's seat. "It's for **your** birthday, which is Friday. You should have remembered that. I mean, it is the day that **you** were born."

"...I forgot." I answer blankly, crawling into the passenger's side. I place the package on my lap and get buckled, curiosity already driving me to feel at the shining purple wrapping. There's a big black ribbon tied around it, which only gets a grin out of me. "You remembered my favorite colors."

He stares at me for the longest time without saying anything, I assume because of the fact that I had forgot when my birthday was. It isn't really all my fault though. Living with aunt Judy could addle anyone's mind to the point where they forgot the simplest things - including the simplest, but most important, details about themselves.

"You used to steal and eat all my purple and black crayons, so yeah. Of course I remember, you dork. You're my sister anyway - what kind of brother would I be if I didn't know what kinda stuff my sister liked?" He says finally, as he starts the car and curses under his breath when it won't start. He gets out, kicks the tire on his side then hits the hood right in the middle; when he gets back in, the car starts right away. "Thereee we go." He nods, buckling back in and adjusting the rearview mirror.

"The fuck?" I suddenly hear, seeing him turn to look in the back seat, then back into the rearview mirror again.

"Jericho!" I frown at him, covering the kitten's ears. "There are young, innocent ears in this car. You need to be a good influence to my little Moe."

"No, shut up. I saw something, I know I did. I'm not kidding, Wil." Jericho shakes his head at me, his brows furrowed.

Needless to say - _I kinda wish I had listened to Jericho._

"Ohmygosh, _ohmygosh_ , _**OHMYGOSH**_!" I shriek excitedly, before tackling Jericho to the floor. "I don't know how you found this for me, but thank YOUUUU.." I squeeze him close to me and grin excitedly.

He let me open my present from him early.

"You're-OOF!" He coughs, sitting up after I leap off of him. "...welcome." He watches me run back over to the box, pick it up, and run off to my old room. Which is, surprisingly, exactly how I remember it. Luckily for me, I'm tiny and can somehow still fit in the toddler bed.

"She's happy, ain't she?" I hear Jericho asking as I walk back down the hall and into the living room.

" _You think?_ " I hear my other older brother, Erin, ask. It is sarcastic but followed by a good-natured laugh, so I know he hasn't changed much either.

"Tah-daaa!" I twirl in a circle in my new costume, then strike a 'sexy' pose. Or my attempt of one, anyway. "Whaddya think?" I ask, batting my eyelashes sweetly.

"You look lovely, sweetheart." My mom answers, walking in with a tray of freshly made chocolate chip cookies. "For a purple and black female Link, anywho." She giggles, kissing my head.

She hands me a cookie, which I readily munch into before catching notice of the glow. My mom doesn't look fat, or anything; but I know something's up.

"Mom, are you..pregnant?" I ask slowly, watching her face light up in a rosy blush. She smiles brightly and nods, setting down the cookie tray.

"Yeah..I am. Guess what it is?" She asks, biting her lower lip.

"Boy?" I ask, guessing on how things are so far; me being the only girl so far that she has given birth to. She shakes her head. "...Girl?" I ask, tilting my head. Mom shakes her head again, leaving me dumbfounded. "Alien chickens?!" I ask, earning a laugh from her.

"No, not alien _anything_ , you turkey." Mom giggles, hugging me close to her and ruffling my hair. "Both, I'm having twins."

"Oh..wow, that's great!" I hug her tightly, then place my ear to her stomach. I can hear them moving, and when I whisper 'hello,' I feel what I think is one baby and then the other, kicking near my ear.

"You should name one of them Peter and the other Diana," I comment, standing straight again.

"After Spider-Man and Wonder Woman," my dad says, hugging mom from behind as he rests his head on her shoulder. "You're so predictable, Willow." He laughs, then kisses mom's cheek. "Not bad names. I kinda like Jack and Sally, though, myself."

I smile and shake my head at my dad, then suddenly sit up. I just remembered. They haven't met Moe! "Hey mom and dad, now that I've 'met' your new babies..Do you wanna meet my baby?"

There is a moment's silence, before I hear from across the room what sounds like someone spitting out their drink. Then Erin's voice yelling

"Your **what**?!"

He is a very protective older brother. Clearly, he misunderstood me.

"Fur baby, you ding nut. Fur baby. I brought home a kitten.."

There is an audible sigh of relief and the tension in the room breaks. I can't help but to sigh and smack my forehead. Honestly, they really think I could get anyone to sleep with me? I can't even get a date. I haven't tried.. But still.

"Oh.."

I can hear two things here following the silence. One, Erin feels stupid for thinking I could have possibly had a kid. Two:

"DUDE! _You just spat in my face!_ You made my eyeliner run. Do you have **any** **idea** how hard that sh*t is to put on?!"

Apparently, Jericho was wearing eyeliner and I forgot to notice.

 _Oopsie_.


	4. I wish I hadn't gone to sleep

I spend the next few days hanging out with my brothers, and taking care of Moe. Moe seems to be really interested in the video games I've been playing with Erin and Jericho, because he has taken to laying on my chest to watch. Or nap. Mostly, he likes to curl up on my chest as close as he can get to me and nap. He's a small little thing, but I'm glad I brought him home.

Being that I've been gone so long, mom got me excused from school by telling them I'm sick and still working on moving back in. The latter part is the most true one; or, it was. I didn't start feeling sick until Thursday night, around 11:45.

My head is pounding. I feel pain shooting through the lower half of my body, and part of me feels almost like it's on fire. Apparently, the nap I decided to take earlier wasn't as helpful as I hoped it would be. As I sit up in my bed to try to stand, I have to quickly grab my bed frame so I won't fall. I'm in so much pain I think could easily throw up my entire insides, twice.

The sudden onslaught of pain is confusing to me, as I am also still half-asleep and trying to fully pull myself into reality. It isn't until I look towards my foot and connect the stream of blood with where the pain is. Bloody Hell. _y._

My aunt had me on some kind of birth control for awhile, because she "couldn't be bothered with getting my stupid pads and shit all the time." I think that's how she put it, anyway. What the hell it even was, I don't know. I feel stupid now - for having taken _anything_ that that woman gave me. I ran out some time ago and forgot to say something to her. I still didn't start, so I figured maybe it wouldn't matter anyway.

What my _lovely_ aunt forgot to mention, was that when I finally had my 'TOM' again, I would feel like dying. Which, I do. I feel like I'm dying. I am guessing it must be built up from not having it for so long. _What a great way to start my sixteenth birthday.._ _ **Not**_ _._

I have no idea where mom keeps that crap; the stuff I need, I mean. That means I'm going to have to wake her up to ask her. _Oh joy, I get to feel bad for waking up my doubly-preggo momma_.

The floor creaks under my feet as I open my bedroom door, heading towards my mom and dad's room. One foot is now freezing; as well as covered in my gross blood, the other is covered by a bagging purple striped sock with teddy bears on it.

I barely make it up the hall to my parents' room, my hand holding my lower stomach as if to keep my aching insides from suddenly deciding to fall out. Every so often, I have to stop so I can catch my breath; I also am listening because I hear creaking in the house elsewhere, and it doesn't feel right. The air feels so much more cold to me right now, than the past few nights this week. I would know, because before now, I had been sneaking out at like midnight to 12:30, to play a little late night LoZ or Super Mario Bros. with my brothers.

A shadow passes behind me. I don't notice right away, because I'm too busy with my mission to get my mom to show me where the 'stuff' is. I need pain meds, NOW.

"M-mom..?" I whisper into the dark, as I push the door to their open further. For some reason, it had been left cracked open a little bit; which, I find odd. I also find it odd, that I haven't heard anything since entering their room. I know my dad has a snoring problem..or he always did as far as I could remember. When I was little, I'd hear him sleeping and think a thunderstorm got caught in his head somehow and was coming out his nose. Yeah..it sounds stupid now. But at the time, it was a satisfactory answer for me.

"Hey..mom? I need you to show me where the.." I start, leaning close so she will hear me but I won't wake dad. Lightning cracks outside. The room is lit up enough for a few seconds, for me to see that I don't have to worry about waking dad up. I won't be waking either of them up. Ever again.

 _ **Both of my parents..are**_ _ **dead**_ _ **.**_

"Mom.." My breath hitches in my throat, and I suddenly feel as if I'm being strangled from the inside. "Mom...wake up...Wake up.." I shake her, then go to my dad's side of the bed. Unfortunately for me, I step in part of what was my dad on my way over. The lightning lights up the room again, and again; several times in the span of seconds. The full scene of the room comes in flashes to me.

I am almost certain the scream I hear next is not human.

I am far too upset to realize it, but the bloodcurdling shriek I am hearing...is coming from myself. I start throwing up when I try to get myself out of the room. I knew I would eventually, though it doesn't make it any less unpleasant.

My first instinct is to go downstairs and check on my brothers. I have to warn them, get them out of the house before they end up like mom and dad. _**There goes my new siblings..Who could do such a thing?!**_

My feelings and thoughts are a mixed batch of rage, distress, pain to the point that adrenaline is probably the only thing keeping me from blacking out, and absolute despair.

"Erin, Jericho.. Where are you?" I call softly and with caution, knowing whoever is in our home probably heard me scream and is looking for me now. I am almost to their rooms, when this thing comes out and looks at me. A twisted, sick grin crosses his face. The best description I can give is that he somewhat resembles a monochrome clown of some sort. He has a weird nose that looks like it could put someone's eye out if he wanted it to. He licks his clawed fingers, then tilts his head to the side; his eyes locked on me.

" **Your brothers are busy being dead right now**..." His voice began, a haunting sound that sent waves of nausea through me and chills up and down my spine. It was almost like a hiss. Like a snake. A clownish...evil, snake being. " **So why don't you try Jack...Laughing Jack..instead? I'm sure you'll be every bit as delicious...Pretty thing**.."

My trance breaks off when the now cackling madman tries to grab me. I have no desire to be eaten alive, be eaten dead, or anything in-between.

"No!" I answer, my voice cracking. I grab a nearby pillow from the couch in the living room and toss it at him. When that doesn't work, resort to smacking him over the head with a lamp. It's not easy, and especially so because I still feel sick and like I'm going to pass out. My spilt-second decision is both good and bad. It works for a moment.. Though now, he's pissed.

I take what little time I have in between whacking him in the head and him surely coming after me, to force myself to run into the kitchen. I begin rifling for a knife, a meat tenderizer, a skillet. Anything to use as a weapon. I am so caught up in this, that I don't notice the boy sitting at the table. His mannerisms are that of a gentleman, and he seems to pride in this. I would consider him so if he wasn't eating my family members' kidneys off a China plate. _I think I'm going to throw up again..._

Opportunity seems to be on my side. It 'knocks' in the form of the very-angry-clown who shows up in the doorway, rubbing his head and giving me the evilest look imaginable. I make everything worse, when my stomach betrays me and I end up throwing up on him. After which, I push past and make my way to try hiding in the laundry room with my very large carving knife.

 **"BITCH!"**

"Not sorry!" I call back without thinking, before darting into the laundry room. By now, I am struggling to breathe. It's all catching up to me. The pain from my stupid period, and the fact that I've gotten sick twice now. My eyes dart everywhere, as I settle on trying to hide in the closet.

Apparently, though, this was yet another bad idea of mine. I feel a really cold hand sliding along my side, grabbing my chest and causing me to yelp. I'd protest further, if not for the cold blade pressing up against my neck. I feel hair tickling my neck, before a low and somewhat raspy voice hits my ear.

 _"I think you should go to sleep.."_

"I can't sleep. Sorry, I'm an insomniac." I answer shakily, my throat raw and my head pounding again. "If it helps anything...I feel like I'm going to pass out.." I comment absently, only to hear a laugh behind me.

 _"Funny.."_ I hear, feeling my hair being moved away from my neck. Replaced by warm breath, and what feels to me like the light grazing of teeth. _"I can help with that too.."_ My breath catches again and I try to look behind me, without much success.

Considering that it's my period making me feel like I'm going to pass out, I really don't see how anyone else could 'help me.' Unless it includes like squeezing my stomach until the pain is so bad I just...pass out?

"How?" I ask, glad that the knife blade is not so tightly pressed against my skin now. I swallow, waiting for an answer. Although, I'm not sure I will like the answer that I am given.

 _"Easy.."_ I hear, followed by my arm being grabbed so he can pull me closer to him; all space between closed off now. His grip on my arm is so tight that I loose hold of my knife. It hits the floor somewhere near my feet - _At this point,_ _I'm just glad it didn't land_ _ **in**_ _my foot.._

There is silence, before I feel a tongue running up the left side of my neck. Painstakingly slow, from the crook of my neck up to my jaw. An odd tingle runs up my spine, causing me to shift. Before I can guess what is happening next, I feel teeth sinking into my skin. "Ow-"

When I try to yelp out in pain, I am silenced by a hand clasped over my mouth. The other roams, as if searching for something. Either not finding it or deciding against it, my ear is what is bitten next. This gains a squeak from me; I can feel my face heating up so bad it hurts. I'm not sure what to make of this - why does the first and only person to hit on me have to be some kind of psychotic killer?

Both hands now slowly sliding across my somewhat bloated stomach, I shift and whimper. Any kind of touch to my stomach right now makes me feel like I'm being stabbed by a thousand knives. When I still feel the coldness of his hands travelling upward, I get the picture of what he's going for. The fact that I fell asleep earlier with my bra on doesn't seem to deter him any, or even get in his way. His cold, somewhat clammy, hands slide right up under my bra and gain an instant gasp from me. I hear a snicker, right before the slow and rough palming of my chest starts.

I squirm, trying to get the words out to protest. Even though I'm pretty sure he was going to kill me when he said he thought I should 'go to sleep,' I almost think I would prefer that, actually.

"..I thought you wanted me to go to sleep..?" I question weakly, gaining no answer, save for a very hard squeezing of my chest. Biting back tears, I very quietly challenge him. An idiot idea, but I have none better at the moment; I'm pretty sure I'm going to have bruises all over my chest.

"I thought you said you could help me pass out..? I'm in a lot of pain, you know..."

 _"Are you going to shut up, or do I have to fuck it out of you?"_ He hisses sharply in my ear, forcing me closer again. From I can feel pressing against my rear, I am pretty sure he's not joking.

Before I can answer, or not answer, rather; the closet doors fly open and I'm grabbed out by the very unhappy clown. He said his name was 'Laughing Jack,' but he doesn't seem to be laughing right now. He looks ready to squeeze me until my neck snaps perfectly in two. By how hard he is holding my throat, I don't doubt he could.

 _"What happened to you? You look like a war zone, L.J."_

"This stupid little bitch knocked a lamp over on me, then threw up on me." L.J. snapped, his grip on my throat tightening again. My vision is beginning to blur, so I kick at his knee. **"# !?#?!"**

All i hear are colorful words coming from the not-so-colorful clown. I rub at my throat and cough roughly, trying to get air back into my lungs again. By now, I am just ready to lay down and die. I don't want to be murdered..but laying down and just.. _dying_..sounds very appealing right now. I don't know if it's possible to will myself to die, so I just flop over on the ground and don't move.

When I'm picked up and then slammed down again on the table-island thingy, all I can do is very softly, let a slow whine. I'm not greatly responsive to the mocking questions or remarks, not until I feel someone crawling up on top of me. At first all the air goes out of me, then I feel sick again. Even if he's not pushing hard or doesn't think he is, my first response is to punch him in the face and then wrestle him off of me - by mostly punching him in the face and then sharply kneeing him in the crotch. I say 'him,' because I can't see very well right now through my tears.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS FUCKING WRONG WITH YOU?!" I growl loudly, seeming to bring shock to the now three weirdos in the room. Afterward, I groan and hunch over, trying not to throw up. It's hard, considering I'm sobbing in pain now.

There's a pause, before I hear

 **"..Jeff, what did you do..stab her?"**

"I thought he was more of a throat-slitter."

 _"No. I didn't stab her. Now leave me alone." *Followed by much groaning and whining*_

 **"Then where's all that blood from?"**

 _"Fuck if I know!"_

There is more silence, with only what I think is whispering between two of the three. Assuming I kneed the one that the clown called Jeff..I am thinking it is the boy with the mask whose name I don't know. I am sure what i hear to follow is a sound of disgust, before I hear L.J. go

 **"Jeff.. If you didn't stab her..think about it. Where's it all coming from?"**

I am paying more attention now, though my eyes are still watering. for some reason, I think it will be kind of..funny..when he puts two and two together. Even if he is a terrifying maniac, he still sounded to be around my age. Knowing boys..they're grossed out by girl's 'problems' - _always_ , without fail.

 _"Ew! Shit...YUCK! You mean I'm covered in blood...From..From that gross girl thing?"_

I try to keep my amusement to myself, though I do sit up and smirk at him. " 'That gross girl thing,' Jeff dearie...is called a _period_.." I say with almost a sneer in his direction. "That's how people get baby psychopaths. And if I'm not mistaken, you are the one who was trying to get in my pants." My attitude shifts, changing back to the one I had when I had to live with my aunt Judy. Which, thinking of that.. makes me suddenly really bitter.

"Why couldn't you idiots have invaded my home and ruined everything when I lived with my stupid aunt Judy?" I hiss, tears pricking at my eyes again. "Why did you have to take away the only family I had who cared I exist? I mean..ever since I lost Jenny, I've been alone. NOW, thanks to you, I really AM alone!" In my anger, I grab the nearest thing and toss it in their direction, not even caring when it shatters against the wall. "I HATE YOU!" I ball into myself and hug my knees close to myself. They could easily kill me right now, but I don't care.

"..Judy..?"

 **"Jenny..? I think a Jenny showed up at the mansion not too long ago..But Judy..?"** __

 _"Oh, yuck. THAT lady. None of us want anything to do with going near her house. That place is disgusting."_

At this, I roll my eyes and snort. "What, killers have standards now?" I scoff, turning my head away.

Unexpectedly, I get a resounding 'yes' from all three. I assume they're staring at me like I'm stupid, but I don't care.

"Oh great, yeah sure you do. Instead of doing society a favor you pick homes with pregnant mothers!" The disdain returns to my voice heavily, before I pull my knees away from myself and stare at them in expectation.

"Well? Get it over with. Kill me already. Rip out my guts, they're putting me in pain anyway. You'd be doing me a favor. Oh, how 'bout this? You can make me 'sleep,' then let him have my kidneys." I point. Having given up entirely, I sound as if I'm talking about something that would be entirely normal, even though it's not. To me, anyway. For them, murder must be _all_ they talk about.

"I have nothing left to live for, you took that from me. If I live I have to go back to my aunt's. If you don't kill me then I'll probably do it, so come on! I'm guessing you're more creative than me anyway."

There's no answer, I'm just being stared at by three individuals that I can't see very well. I wonder if they're thinking about it, or thinking maybe _I'm_ the crazy person for asking them to kill me, and then suggesting ways to do it.

"What?" I snap, growing angrier. "You're staring at me like this is the first time anyone has asked you to kill them. Just fucking kill me! You killed everyone else in this damn house besides my kitten. Or, did you eat him too?" I ask disdainfully, no longer even trying to contain my rudeness.

Still, silence. Pure, irritating silence. Then, I get an answer. It comes from Jeff's direction, I think.

 _"This kinda is the first time we've been yelled at to kill someone..by the person we were there to kill.." he stops, rubbing the back of his neck. "Soo..this is actually really weird."_

I stare, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, yay. I'm special. Whoopty-doo la-dee-da. For once in my life I've done something interesting!" I sass, making a stupid face. "Let me guess, I'm also the first person who asked to die a virgin?" I ask dryly, raising an eyebrow.

 _ **"That's stupid."**_

I hear behind me, by a voice I've yet to encounter. I turn to look, and see what appears to be some kind of Link-lookalike hanging upside down in mid air; with him, I see Moe stick his head up.

 _ **"And how are you a virgin, anyway? You're hot."**_

He moves to the side, smirking at me. I feel my face heat up, though I don't answer. Instead, I try to grab for my kitten. Seeing what I want, the impish boy moves away again and shakes his head.

"Give me Moe!" I snap angrily, reaching out again.

 _ **"No~"**_ He giggles, seeming amused by my irritation. _**"Not unless youuu...gimme a kiss."**_

My face flushes, a painful red. I don't know how. I've never been kissed, and I've never paid attention to anyone else when they were, so..I'm clueless. I frown, and look away from him. _If I'm still a virgin, why does this weirdo think I'll know how to kiss?_ I wonder to myself, watching as he appears in front of me, holding Moe just out of my reach.

 _ **"C'mon Gingersnap, just one little kiss~ Unless of course..you want more."**_

I grow impatient at this and frown deeper. "...I can't. I don't know how. And that's not my name..my name is Willow." I mutter, my hair falling in my face. By the change in the atmosphere, I can almost sense a group question of _'What's_ _wrong_ _with her? How doesn't she know how to kiss?'_ I just.. **don't**. I wish instead of mocking me, they'd just kill me. Strangle me or..something.

 _ **"Don't know how?"**_ He feigns shock and shakes his head at me. _ **"Here, let me fix that~"**_ Before I can realize what he's doing, he's giving Moe to Jeff and then is immediately over back where I am, sitting next to me and pulling me so I'm in his lap. I want to protest, but for an apparent ghost, he's stronger than he looks. With me held in place, my any words are completely cut off by the fact that my lips are being held captive by someone who probably wants more than a kiss from me. It's only a guess, but a guess made due to the way that he seems to be trying to make it as sensual as possible.

By the time he finally lets go of me, not a word is said about the fact that I probably didn't have the greatest breath. The only reaction I do see, is that he's now staring at me like he wants to screw me until I can't walk for a week. It makes me nervous.

"O..Okay.. You got your kiss..now, I want my kitten.." I start, trying to lean away.

He snickers, leaning close to my ear. Practically at a purr, he whispers _**"So do I~"**_

With embarrassment freshly burning on my face and Moe sleeping in my lap, I stare off into space. My four would-be murderers are out talking in the hall. While I am sure it's a debate on who gets to kill me - or possibly, who should get to ' _deflower_ ' me first; I'm not sure. It sounds like a very heated argument, though.

By the time the door opens again, I'm pretty much ready to die. I set Moe beside me so he won't get hurt, and stare straight forwards. The first one to enter the room isn't who I expect it to be. It's actually L.J. This kind of scares me, because I'm pretty sure he's still mad at me for getting sick on him. I swallow roughly and look at him in question, not gaining an answer. Instead, both my arms are very tightly grabbed and held to the point to when I can't move.

The next to come into the room, is Jeff. He's followed by the other two, who just stare. He approaches me and grabs my jaw, pulling me so I have to look at him.

 _"You want to live?"_

I frown. Haven't they been listening? I don't have a reason to. I am about to say so, when I see Moe again being held by the Link wannabe. He holds him out and gives me a devilish grin, signalling the question could as easily be for the kitten.

I nod quickly, relieved to see Moe being held correctly and not in some dangerous fashion.

This gains a grin from Jeff, who nods to L.J. This seeming to signal him to force me to lay on the table for some reason.

 _"E.J. Scalpel."_

Jeff holds his hand out to the boy wearing the mask, who comes over and gives him the instrument - a small, shining silver object previously hidden away in a pocket. With it in hand, Jeff hovers over me. This time, not pressing his knee into my stomach. Leaning down by my ear, he whispers with a soft hiss.

 _"Don't think this is a permanent thing..You're agreeing to this knowing you could die at any time...Just so you know."_

With that, one of his hands is very forcefully clapped down over my mouth. I soon figure out why - he's carving something into my right cheek. I have no idea what, because it's halfway through this that I finally pass out.

...

In a way, I..almost.. wish I had never left my aunt's. **Almost**. Because..

 _Who knows where I'm going to be taken to now..?_


End file.
